understatement at this point.
We weave through the throngs of elegant guests, over to the door that leads down into the basement. Quick glances and little remarks from the partygoers creep our way, but I couldn’t care less. My focus was on only one thing. Xander.
“Charlotte?” My spine instantly straightens as my mother’s voice floats through the cool night air.
Sucking in a deep breath, I push back my hair and put on the fakest smile I can muster. Not wanting her to get too close to the group, I dash over to her side.
“Mom, sorry I am so late,” I huff, gripping her soft hand.
“Honey, what happened to you?” she asks as her eyes rake over my disheveled appearance, landing on my bare feet. “Where are your shoes?” Her hand sweeps over my hair and she gasps. “Oh my God! You’re bleeding! Charlotte, what happened?”
“It’s a really long story.” My eyes dart left and right and I cover the gash on the side of my head with my hair. “But please, Mom. I can’t explain right now.”
“Seriously, Charlotte, what in the world is going on?” she hisses, following my gaze and peering at the group near the stairs.
“I need to find Dad,” I mutter, glancing around the place for his broad shoulders.
“I haven’t seen him for a while. He’s probably just talking shop with a cigar on the terrace like usual,” she answers, putting her hand on my cheek. “Honey, are you bleeding?”
“Mom, I am seriously fine. I just need to find Dad. If you see him, tell him I need to talk to him.”
“Charlotte!” she calls after me, but I ignore her. There is no way that I want to try to go down the rabbit hole of explaining this fucked-up situation to her right now.
Leaving my mother standing in the middle of the room, I scamper back over to the staircase, the group already halfway down the stairs.
“Wait,” I grab Jase's hand. It feels so wrong, but he is the closest one to me.
They all halt, whipping their heads around to look at me.
“They will have guards down there,” I whisper.
“Looking for me?” My father’s booming voice echoes in the poorly lit staircase.
I spin on my heels, not able to mutter a damn word as our eyes meet.
“Glad you have the whole gang here. I was hoping my little announcement would be able to make it all the way to the top of the Iazetti family. Nice to see you, Marco. It’s been too long.” My father’s eyes narrow onto Mr. Iazetti.
“I wish I could say this was a pleasure, but this is not a social call,” Marco snarls, taking a few steps up toward my father, shoving past his sons and Xander’s peons.
“Follow me, I think I know what you’re looking for.” Charles Hawthorne is his cool, collected self as he makes his way down in front of us, heading straight for the basement...the place where, according to the phone call, Xander is being held captive.
What in the fucking world is going on?
Chapter 26
Xander
“You’re a fucking lunatic!” I scream. “Why the hell did you do that?”
Rossi smirks at me and sidesteps Lorenzo’s bloody body, which is now sprawled in front of the one exit I can see. “Because he served his purpose. Lorenzo screwed himself when he decided to play both sides of the fence. He didn’t think we’d find out, stupid fuck that he was. He took our money and our offers but then spit in our faces when he ran back to you and your family, the people whose loyalty he violated.” Rossi shakes his head and paces in front of me as I try with every ounce of strength in me to pull the restraints loose. “See, that’s the thing about shitting where you eat. It always gets fucking messy, Xander.” He leans in close enough so that I can smell the nicotine on his breath. “But you know all about that, don’t you? You got involved with things you didn’t understand, things that were none of your damn business. And you pulled your little girlfriend right into the shit show next to you. How did you think this was gonna go down, huh? Did you really think you could screw with our plans and not even realize you were fucking with more than your girlfriend’s golden pussy?”
“Where is she?” I bellow. Christ, I want to pummel the shit out of this douchebag, but I’m powerless to make a move.
And that’s not a good thing,